The Best Kind of Friends are Golden
by luvscharlie
Summary: Lavender Brown loves Ron Weasley. It's not infatuation, really, it's not. Just ask her. Ron/Lavender


_The Best Kind of Friends are Golden _by Luvscharlie

_Warnings: __Parvati Patil as sacrificial lamb, a very self-absorbed and flighty Miss Brown, fantasies of a young girl, wanking, twisting of canon by Lavender to make Ron like the coolest thing EVER. _

_**A/N**__**:**__ Originally written for 2011 hp_wankfest on Insane Journal where the prompt was Lavender Brown in the dorm rooms with the golden snitch. Thank you Lunalovepotter and Mugglemama for the beta work. That one line at the beginning that is italicized is lifted straight from __Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban__ which I was listening to as I wrote this. Takes place during Year 6._

_"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender. She doesn't think other people's pets matter much."_

That was the statement that first made Lavender notice Ron Weasley. Before, he'd simply been that famous Harry Potter boy's best friend. And since Lavender came from a Muggle family, she'd never heard the name Harry Potter before arriving at Hogwarts, so she was rather convinced that his celebrity status was nothing but a case of overhype. Of course, when she'd noticed Ron Weasley, they'd been mere children, a whole three years ago, but he'd been comforting rather than condescending as Lavender cried. Not like that frizzy-haired friend of his. Poor Binky's loss, combined with the frightening prophetic prediction by Professor Trelawney had caused Lavender a good deal of emotional upheaval, and the last thing she'd wanted was to be talked to logically about Binky's tragic death. She'd wanted comfort, consolation, and that sweet Ron Weasley had understood. He'd patted her shoulder and offered those words of comfort.

Of course, three years later, it hadn't hurt at all that Ron had grown up and filled out and his bum had shaped up rather nicely as his shoulders broadened and his once skinny waist was now trim and toned. At sixteen years of age, he was rather yummy to look at in Lavender's opinion. And since last week, he was now the talk of the school—a Quidditch star—the joy of Gryffindor House.

And he was going to be hers. She wanted that deliciously sensitive and nicely shaped Quidditch star to parade around on her arm. All those other girls would look at her with envy—there goes Lavender Brown with that dreamy Ron Weasley—bound to play for England, that one, they'd say. Oh, don't I wish I was Lavender Brown, they'd think. She was going to be the talk of the school, and that was saying something when you shared a year with Mr Famous I-Have-A-Scar-On-My-Head-Even-Though-I-Was-A-Baby-And-Did-Nothing-To-Deserve-It Potter. She was going to be the girlfriend of Ron Weasley, Resident Quidditch Star. It would just take some work, but Lavender was nothing if not hard-working, when it was something worth working for.

And it was this new fascination with Ron Weasley that had got Lavender and Parvati in the predicament that they currently found themselves in…

It was midnight and the school was fast asleep. Well, most of the school was fast asleep. All of the school was _supposed_to be fast asleep.

"You're going to get us expelled!" Parvati hissed as Lavender tugged her into the Gryffindor changing rooms.

"It's not as if you _had_to come," Lavender retorted, beginning to rifle around.

"What do you mean, didn't have to come? You woke me up and when I said I wasn't coming, you pulled my hair and pinched my arm!"

"Well, you needed incentive."

"Yes, I guess I did." Parvati rolled her eyes. "Can't imagine why I might need a kick in the rear to get me out of bed, wandering about the school when we know it's forbidden, and then there's that possibility of being sent home in shame so that my parents can torment me forever with the constant comments about Padma being the good daughter and me being the disgraced one who got thrown out of Hogwarts. Gee, whatever was I thinking wanting to stay in bed, stay in school, stay not-murdered by my parents? Really, what a stick-in-the-mud, I am." The sarcasm was evident…

"You really are."

…or not.

"I'm going back to bed."

Lavender gave a sigh of disgust. "Do you want me to pinch you again?"

"Not particularly."

"Then stop whinging and start helping me look for it. The sooner we find it, the sooner we'll be back in bed and you'll be the good daughter again."

"I don't even know what we're looking for!" Parvati crossed her arms over her chest. Lavender had forced her out without even a chance to don her dressing gown. Lavender was rummaging through locker after locker as Parvati looked on. And then she had it, holding up the golden Snitch in triumph.

"I've got it! My precious Won-Won's Snitch. Oh, it's mine. He touched this, Pars! He caressed it in that beautiful hand of his. And now it's all mine!" She made a squeeing noise that was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Parvati looked at her best friend as though she'd lost her mind. "You know, technically, it was Potter that caught the Snitch. Ron's a Keeper. Keepers don't touch the Snitch. I'm pretty sure that Won—I mean, Ron—has had zero contact with that little golden ball you hold there in your hand."

"Are you always such a Negative Nelly? Why do you insist on coming between me and my true love? Jealous? That must be it. You know you'll always be my best friend. There, there." Lavender patted Parvati's shoulder. Parvati's mouth was agape.

There was a throat clearing from the doorway and both girls jumped and shrieked, with Lavender shoving the Snitch into a pocket in her robe. It was Professor McGonagall and she looked mad enough to take on a Mountain Troll in her tartan dressing gown.

"Out of bed at night? You two had best have a seriously good explanation before I lose my temper." She crossed her arms, mouth drawn in a stern line across her face.

Lavender shoved Parvati forward. "It's not her fault, Professor," Lavender began. "She can't help herself. She's a loony, obsessed Quidditch fan. And sometimes it gets the better of her. It's a cry for help, Professor. Don't go too hard on her."

It was the next night, back in their dorm room and Parvati still hadn't spoken to her. Lavender had resigned herself to begging. "How many times do I have to apologise? I'm sorry, Pars. I panicked!"

Parvati rolled over on her bed, presenting Lavender with her back, then pointed her wand over her shoulder and used it to magic her curtains on the four-poster closed.

"You're totally overreacting," Lavender said with a 'hmph'.

The curtains whipped back open as quickly as they'd closed and Parvati sat up, an enraged look on her face—so enraged that Lavender took a large step backwards, and wished Parvati would lower her wand.

"I have detention for a month, lost one hundred and ten points for Gryffindor, that ridiculous fifth year Hufflepuff girl Annabeth Thompson told the entire shower room that I probably sneaked in there to steal Harry Potter's broom so that I could use it as a sex toy, and worst of all, Professor McGonagall wrote home to my mother."

"Oh, it's not so bad—" Lavender began.

"I'M NOT FINISHED!"

"Eep." The little noise squeaked in Lavender's throat and she took another step back and considered casting a Protection Spell between the two of them.

"My mother wrote back, and do you want to know what she asked me? DO YOU?"

"I'm afraid to say no," Lavender whispered and drew her own wand. Good to be prepared for that Protection Spell. "A little afraid to say yes, too. Whatever the right answer is, maybe you could just assume I said it?"

"She wrote back to say that Professor McGonagall had indicated that I might need some sort of intervention so when I get back, I have to meet with a medium, or an exorcist, or some such nonsense. My mum wasn't specific."

"Well, I doubt it's an exorcist. I mean you're not that hopeless a case and—"

Parvati shot her a glare that Medusa would envy, and Lavender whispered, "Yeah, not the time. Shutting up now."

Parvati wailed to the ceiling, left her bed still glaring and stomped from the room.

Lavender found herself alone, which was a luxury when you shared bed-quarters, and she consoled herself that Parvati would get over her little fit of temper and they'd be friends again in no time. Parvati was a bit dramatic at times, but mostly she saw reason when it mattered.

Like when Lavender said, "I don't know the answer to question five," Parvati was reasonable enough to say, "Check box C." And when Lavender had run out of her favourite jasmine shampoo, Parvati had very reasonably hidden hers in that spot that Lavender knew about, so that nicking it had been quite easy. However, Parvati was not the sneaky sort, and she'd probably been the reason they'd got caught in the changing rooms in the first place, so Lavender hadn't felt too guilty that Parvati had been the one to get detention, and Lavender had got praise for being a good friend who had tried to help Parvati with her liking-Quidditch-a-little-too-much problem, and hadn't let her friend go roaming about the school alone. Parvati hadn't seen things that way. Well, she wasn't _always_ reasonable. Lavender guessed nobody was perfect. Nobody except her precious Won-Won with his big strong hands, and his lovely freckles and that hair that made him easy to spot in a crowded corridor. _Sigh_. Yes, her Won-Won was perfectly dreamy.

Besides, now was not the time to linger on such things as Parvati's bad friend-ness. The dorm room was silent, with only Lavender inside, and she'd finally learned to master that Locking Spell. Now was the time for it, since it didn't do much good to lock the door if you locked others in with you, and the room was so rarely empty.

Lavender performed the spell with accuracy, smiling as she heard the click of the lock. Hermione Granger would have simply walked across the room and thrown the bolt, but that was probably because Miss Frizzy Hair hadn't mastered Locking Spells yet. Something Lavender had done with perfect precision.

The door was flung open at that precise moment and clattered off the wall with a resounding thud.

Okay, _almost_ perfect precision. _I really hate fate sometimes._

"I didn't come in here to make up with you," Parvati said. "I just came for my toothbrush. I'm sleeping in the first years' dorm room tonight."

"You're not allowed to do that." Lavender smacked herself mentally for her flapping lips. She couldn't be alone if Parvati stayed, and she could almost hear the buzzing of the tiny wings attached to the golden Snitch that was in her bedside table drawer. It was calling to her. "I mean, why ever would you want to stay with them?" _Damn, still not what I was going for. That in no way encourages her to stay away._

Luckily for her, and despite her failing tongue, Parvati was still really angry and didn't want to be in Lavender's presence. "Someone has to teach those young girls how to choose best friends who won't become boy obsessed, Quidditch freaks who lie when caught and shamelessly sacrifice their only friend in the world. I seem to be an expert on how to do it _wrong_."

"Well, yes you—Oi! Wait just a minute there. I am not a Quidditch freak!"

"And that is the _only_thing in that statement you take exception with?" Parvati flung her toothbrush at Lavender's head and slammed the door on her way out.

_I hope she gets a cavity and the dentist uses a really large drill._ Lavender stomped to the door and locked it the Muggle way, which was hopefully more effective than the magical one because if she saw Parvati again in the next several hours, she was likely to magic a tail onto her or something. And Granger, who was clearly lusting for _her_Ron. Well, a tail would be too good for her, but there were some rumours that a tail wouldn't be a new experience for her. Something about second year and a bad potion—and Lavender would have traded her left tit to know more about that. Well, she would have if her tits weren't so well proportioned and she hadn't noticed that Ron had definitely noticed their perfectness when she went without a bra one day, bouncing in front of him with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. She didn't want to be lopsided. Lopsided wouldn't get her sweet Ron to take a second look. At least not in the good way.

Lavender threw herself onto her four-poster, pounded her fists into the mattress and glared at the curtains as she wanded them closed. They immediately flew back open again. _Fucking wand_. She did it again, glared at the curtains just daring them to open again, and she was sure they quivered in fear. Smart curtains. She groaned, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff. The night hadn't gone anything like she'd planned. Parvati was angry, Granger was tail-less and… and it was quiet and she was alone, and she'd been waiting for a night just such as this, but in her anger she'd forgotten the value of alone time. Sometimes she had difficulty staying on task. That happened when toothbrushes got lobbed at your head and people came barging in and out.

That's when her mind drifted back to the Snitch. Her new found prize that had probably cost her Parvati's companionship for a while, but which might well make for a better friend… or at least a more fulfilling and satisfying one. It was sort of Parvati's fault that Lavender was so taken with the bright and shiny bauble anyway. But did Little Miss Temptress accept any of the blame? Nope. She just led poor Lavender into temptation and then left her there. Some friend, huh? Lavender had never seen one of _those_Quidditch magazines until Parvati had got one from Susan Bones (Hufflepuffs! Who knew? The debauchery! Impressive, really.) and then Parvati had shared it with Lavender. So really, who was Parvati to blame her for getting into trouble? That magazine had been like a bright red apple on a tree of sweet temptation… oh the thoughts it had invoked, the fantasies it had enhanced and the dreams—they were the wickedest and most delicious of all.

Lavender pulled the little Snitch from the top drawer of the bedside table, and nearly fell off her bed in the hurried rush of pushing up her skirt and tucking it into her waistband and tugging her knickers off and kicking them aside. The look on the witch's face in the magazine led her to believe that this would be pure ecstasy. The best kind of vibrator in the world the article had said. Clearly worth a trip to the changing rooms after hours, a pilfered Snitch and detention… you know, for Parvati.

Lavender rolled the Snitch about in her palm, feeling its coolness against her skin, and heating it with her own anticipation. She lay back against the plush feathers that plumped her pillow, tossed one arm back over her head just as the witch had been postured in the picture and pressed the Snitch to the lips of her sex… and… nothing happened. Her precious Ron's Snitch didn't buzz, didn't vibrate, didn't do a fucking thing. There was no flapping of wings to arouse her. It simply remained still between her fingers. She raised it back up to eye level, bit her lip and gave it a good shake.

Nothing.

She inspected it for a button.

Not a single visible lump or switch.

She gave it a good crack against the bedside table to knock some sense into it.

Not even a tiny buzz of activity.

"Argh," Lavender growled, shaking the Snitch violently and throwing it hard across the room. Not even her drawn bed curtains slowed it down, and it made a resounding crack as it bounced off the wall. And then she heard it. The thing was buzzing away. She pulled back her curtains and poked out her head to see it zipping around the room so quickly that it was little more than a gold blur.

She was so excited that she leapt from the bed bare arsed, her skirt still tucked around her waist and gave a merry chase until she was out of breath. The Snitch was mocking her. She couldn't even get close to it. How the hell Potter ever caught the bloody thing was beyond her. Particularly not out in the open. She, at least, had the advantage of four walls to pin it in, which the Snitch clearly didn't like, since it kept bouncing off them in its mad dash efforts to escape.

Lavender, sweating and panting, put her hands on her hips in an attempt to catch her breath. Then she glared menacingly at the Snitch, which was hovering near the door, just out of reach.

"I have so had it with you! You be still this instant!" Lavender pointed her finger menacingly at the little golden orb that taunted her with its buzzing from across the room. Chasing it was never going to work. By the time she caught it, if she ever did, she'd be too exhausted to enjoy it. "You come here." She used the firm tone of voice that her mother used, which brooked no argument. Lavender was shocked when the Snitch obeyed. It flew toward her like an obedient child. She smiled at her victory. Then, the Snitch smacked her hard in the forehead and zipped away, leaving Lavender raging.

She flung herself down on her bed, yanked the curtain violently closed and beat her fists into the pillow, yelling obscenities that would have made her mother wash her mouth out with soap at least twice. That's when she heard it. That mocking little buzz, just beside her ear. She raised her head enough to glare at the tiny, bobbing ball.

"Shoo. Go away. I don't like you anymore."

It bounced and weaved but remained within reach. Lavender held out a tentative hand, and the Snitch landed lightly in her palm. She closed her fist over it and rolled to her back, clasping the hard won prize between her fingers. Its wings fluttered, creating a light breeze on her skin as she pressed the buzzing ball to her lips. "I guess someone just needed to show you who's boss, huh?" Lavender whispered. The Snitch gave an angry jerk, and Lavender corrected her comment quickly. "Or maybe you were just being nice to me. Recognised a woman in need, did you? Good little Snitch," she consoled.

The Snitch seemed to purr in her hand. It seemed to enjoy sweet talking. She wished she'd known that before running fifty laps around her dorm room and having the shit smacked out of her forehead. Of course, she didn't much like her mother's stern voice either, so she could forgive the Snitch for that transgression. After all, how many times had she wanted to do the very same thing when her mother talked to her that way?

"Sorry about that," she whispered to the little ball, then felt somewhat foolish for talking to an inanimate object. Only, it seemed to respond with appreciation, and this _was_Hogwarts, where not all things were as they seemed, so maybe it wasn't so foolish when you really thought about it.

"You and me. We're going to have great fun together. You belong to the handsomest, most wonderful Quidditch player in the world, you know? He's my boyfriend." The Snitch gave a little jerk. "Well, he will be soon. And you shouldn't listen to Parvati. She probably confused you the other night when we found you in the changing rooms. She's not all that good at Quidditch, Parvati. Doesn't realise all the things my beautiful Ron does when he's on the pitch. I mean, not that I'm really watching you or anything—no offense—it's just my Ron, well, I'm always focused on him. And I'm just sure that he won that last game. And I think you win the game by catching you, you know? And if Potter caught you, well it must have been because my Ron helped him. My Ron is always helping him. Couldn't tie his own trainers without Ron to show him how, if you ask me. Not that anyone ever does. Besides there's only so much I can do with a pair of Keeper's gloves and Ron keeps his locked in his trunk.

"What? Don't you look at me that way, Mister," she scolded the Snitch. "I just wanted to borrow them, you know, for touching myself and—" The Snitch gave a testy jerk. "Of course, they probably couldn't compare with you or anything." It visibly calmed, clamouring for more of Lavender's praise. "I mean, you can do things that a pair of gloves could never hope to achieve. So don't you listen to Parvati's nonsense. You could never belong to that Potter. He's a bit too specky and scrawny for my taste. What do you think? And that hair. Good heavens, has he ever even heard of a brush?" The Snitch buzzed its agreement and Lavender found herself liking her new toy more and more. "You know," she said, "you remind me an awful lot of Parvati. Particularly when you hit me in the head. Don't do that again," she chided. "But you know, for the most part, you're far more agreeable. I think I like you better."

It was the turn of her thoughts toward Parvati that reminded Lavender that she might not have the dorm room to herself the entire night. Parvati might decide not to tempt the cavity fairy and come back for her toothbrush at any time. "We'd best get down to business before we're interrupted," she told the Snitch.

Lavender closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift, as they did most nights, to Ron Weasley. Naked Ron Weasley. Ron Weasley in the shower, covered in freckles and dripping water down his pale skin. Ron Weasley with a penis that rivalled the ones she'd seen in Susan Bones's dirty magazine. Long and thick, curving slightly to the left, just like Mr October, who was the centrefold in the newest issue being passed around Hogwarts. She imagined Ron taking his Mr October-sized cock in his hand and beginning to stroke. He'd wink at her, just like Mr October winked his naughty wink whenever she and Parvati ogled him. But Ron's wink would be only for her. And when they'd caressed their fingers over Mr October's naughty bits in the magazine, he'd arched his back and made an "o" shape with his mouth, stroking that beautiful prick of his. She imagined herself joining Ron in the Quidditch changing rooms, and brushing his beautiful fingers aside, to take him in her hand, stroking. Hearing her name tumble from his pouty lips (much more pouty in fantasy than in reality, but that's what fantasies were for, right? Besides, he was perfect, from his lips to his Mr October bits if anyone asked her.). She touched the Snitch to her sex as her heart began to race in time with her fantasy. The vibration against the lips of her cunt made her cry out. She'd never felt anything quite so intense and her hips arched at the contact. Her own fingers had never felt like this. This was…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moaned. No other words were strong enough to come close to what she was feeling.

Her mind was reeling. Keeping a conscious train of thought was impossible. She couldn't focus. She imagined Ron's fingers held the tiny golden ball to her cunt, and whispered "more" pressing the Snitch deeper between the lips of her sex. It touched her clit, the vibrations running through her and her legs locked and her back arched and thoughts of Ron Weasley were no more. All she saw were colours, felt the blood pounding in her ears and her legs tingled until her toes curled. Her climax came on with the power and intensity of a charging Hippogriff and left Lavender feeling like a puddle of warm goo on the bed. Warm, happy, never felt so relaxed in her life goo. The Snitch was still clutched tightly in her hand, though it had stopped buzzing, and its wings were pulled in.

She tucked it beneath her pillow and patted it lovingly. "Mr October's got nothing on you, my new best friend. This was so completely worth Parvati's detention."

The End


End file.
